These problems have been rampant for decades in punk rock communities, particularly those in more mainstream pop-punk circles: on at least two separate occasions in the last year alone, fans were sexually assaulted or harassed by other audience members at Jeff Rosenstock performances (Bomb the Music Industry!, The Arrogant Sons of Bitches). Many more assaults likely occur per show but assailants remain unidentifiable in the packed crowd violently moshing.

At times, even direct lyrical contents from groups considered progressive in pop-punk exhibit blatant misogyny – political-punk band NOFX has written numerous songs with explicit slut-shaming and transmisogynistic lyrics (“My vagina’s got lots of extra skin / they took my outie and made it an in / changing Donnie to Marie Osmond”), yet these examples are often forgotten by fans.

However, to simply characterize this as an issue in anti-progressive pop scenes would be a misstep. Singer-guitarist Jorge Herrera of iconic street punk band The Casualties has been accused on several occasions of sexually assaulting his fans, at least one of whom was underage at the time of the alleged assault. Following these allegations in 2013, a flood of support for Herrera from countless self-declared punks found its way onto The Casualties’ Facebook page, denying the assaults and victim-blaming the survivors. This extends beyond far more than a few isolated instances or an issue of a particular sub-scene – this is a systemic issue throughout punk culture.

On at least two separate occasions in the last year alone, fans were sexually assaulted or harassed by other audience members at Jeff Rosenstock performances.

While seemingly antithetical to punk’s core ethos, the crisis of sexual violence and misogyny in punk has likely found root in certain ideals of the subculture itself. The key punk ethics of anti-authoritarianism and DIY self-reliance are a dangerous force when combined with society’s patriarchal indoctrination of sexual entitlement. Rebellion against what is perceived as oppression can lead to sexual violence by dangerous and manipulative assailants who see sexual gratification or power as a right inherently owed to them. This skewed and twisted interpretation of the notions of political freedom and unrestrained individuality has time and time again proven punk a dangerous space for many.

Due to the degree of its prevalence, tackling this issue is a daunting task. Even so, progress and self-enforcement of inclusivity within the punk scene is far from unprecedented. Historically, mainstream punk subculture is perfectly capable of ostracizing and reducing the influence of vitriolic groups threatening to safe(r) spaces – most clearly epitomized by the 1980s movement against self-described “Nazi-punks.” With active condemnation from the greater punk community, these individuals were largely separated from the mainstream scene.

Singer-guitarist Jorge Herrera of iconic street punk band The Casualties has been accused on several occasions of sexually assaulting his fans, at least one of whom was underage at the time of the alleged assault.

Criticism railed against them by even the most prominent groups of the time: The Dead Kennedys (although not without its own backlog of problematic lyrical content) contributed heavily with its 1981 hit single “Nazi Punks F**k Off.” Although originally intended as a criticism of violence in punk in general, it became a rallying call against the white supremacy and anti-Semitism seeping into punk culture. In the years following its release, anti-Nazi armbands, songs, and slogans became commonplace at punk rock shows, providing a visible protest against white supremacy.

So where are the modern, ubiquitous anthems and armbands criticizing sexism and cissexism in today’s punk? Why is the outrage once directed at Nazism in punk not echoed in modern disgust with the misogyny that occurs regularly at today’s punk shows?

The outlook is not all bleak, and slow progress is being made. The rise of the Riot Grrl scene and bands like Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney in the early nineties began to bring feminism and anti-misogyny centre stage in the punk world. Today, a focus on addressing sexism has slowly begun to take hold across nearly all sub-scenes. In response to the assaults at his shows, Rosenstock has stopped several times mid-performance to address issues of sexual harassment within his fan community, and has issued statements urging fans to “continue to make punk shows a place where everyone feels safe from sexual assault, so we can all rock out without fear of being violated.” Anarcho-folk punk band Ramshackle Glory placed a trigger warning for sexual violence at the start of their 2011 album Who are Your Friends Gonna Be? The listener community itself is also taking an active role; a boycott of The Casualties has led to numerous cancelled shows and a cancelled Canadian tour.

It is easier for musicians and fans to criticize shameful aspects of punk rock culture rather than take definitive steps to stop assault and transmisogynist oppresion. Nevertheless, strict action must continue. A clear and unequivocal message from across the scene desperately needs to be sent, as it was to Nazi-punks, that misogyny and sexual violence are entirely unwelcome in the punk scene. Until then, there will always be an air of hypocrisy surrounding the self-proclaimed progressive nature of punks who choose to avoid the issue.

The post Where’s the outrage now? appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Songs from the Adjacent Room, the new album from Regina rockers Snake River, reveals a divergence from the folksy tonality of their debut album McKruski. Even though band members Dustin Gamracy, John De Gennaro, Christopher Sleightholm, and Whistlin’ Jeff M. have shifted toward a more psychedelic corner of rock, this new album follows in the storytelling tradition of traditional folk that initially elevated McKruski to its current success. Much like McKruski, Songs from the Adjacent Room recounts the story of the fictional Reginald McKruski and his wife. The seven tracks on the album take place over the course of a single day, February 2, 1989, and draw mostly from the couple’s daily dialogue and the occasional vivid flashback, effectively painting a poignant portrait of the couple’s 16-year marriage. In this sense, Songs from the Adjacent Room offers a glimpse of the everyday, humming with thoughtful lyrics and ethereal vocals set against the backdrop of eerie guitar riffs and reverberating drums.

The album opens with “Hours III: Jeanie Says,” a spirited track where the coalescing vibrations of drums and guitar are coupled with Sleightholm’s harrowing lyrics. This song, along with the closing track on the album, “Hours IV: Don’t Want to Wake You,” is emblematic of Sleightholm’s full lyrical prowess. The delicate lyrics aren’t as fuzzy as the other tracks’ lyrics tend to be. It seems fitting, especially considering Snake River’s penchant for grandiose storytelling, that the album’s introductory and closing tracks are pensive and inconclusive, serving to softly lead and end the album’s narrative arc and simultaneously create the ambient vibe expected from psychedelic rock. “Resonating On” reflects this aspect perfectly, as it is brimming with meandering vocal harmonies and numbing guitar interludes.

Although Snake River began as a solo project for singer Sleightholm, the band now boasts four members, including former members of Canadian bands Despistado and Spoils, each having enjoyed their own respective musical accolades. Sleightholm is still very much at the helm of Snake River, writing and performing all the songs: in essence, he is composing the album’s fictional trajectory. Hailing from the great Canadian West, the band seeks to incorporate some aspect of homegrown folk flavour, while also capturing the listener’s interest for intricate storytelling with an undertone of hypnotic rock.

The thing about Songs from the Adjacent Room, as with any fantastic album with ambitious plot-driven lyrics, is that it evolves with each successive listen. The listener is transported time and time again as the songs replay, their mind brimming with atmospheric haze and lyrical subtleties.

The Hellbound Hepcats – Turn Me Inside Out

Those familiar with the Hellbound Hepcats’ earlier work know that their high-quality, Elvis-inspired vocals and Stray Cats-infused basslines stand out in the modern rockabilly scene. In a genre as prone to tropes and catchy repetition as rockabilly, it can be refreshing to hear new approaches to the sound. The group’s most recent album, Turn Me Inside Out, provides fans with more of the classic rockabilly swing that previous albums so deftly adopted. As always, the band steeps its sound in country Western influences, and this delivers in dividends. The sound is full, dark, new, and immaculately performed.

Even the group’s foray into psychobilly in the opening track, “Black Cats,” bears the hallmark of a group well-versed in its product. The over-the-top, Misfits-esque lyrics are mirrored in the driving bassline’s frantic energy, and the tempo and production of the guitar tone modernize their swing sound. It’s a pulsing party of a track that both opens the album and marks its highest point, and on its own is enough to make the record worth a listen. Time and time again, this group proves that the extended world of rockabilly is right where it belongs.

Tracks diverging more dramatically from the album’s theme, however, tend to fall short of the mark. “Something Different” attempts to infuse a country fifties ballad with a more aggressive early seventies punk sound, but the result lacks the charm of either genre. “Feeding Yourself to the Wolves” feels clean and well-rehearsed, but sterile and without the passion a song of its sombre tone deserves.

The real trouble starts near the end of the record, when the group’s sound takes on a far darker tone with the heavy track “Restless Soul.” The song dramatically diverges from its previously playful and swinging tone, adopting a not fully fleshed out attempt at nihilistic early-2000s alternative rock. Moving into the final track, “Southbound Train,” the tone once again shifts wildly, this time into a sort of jazzy lounge feel in which the band sounds out of their comfort zone. The record’s conclusion is clunky and unnecessary, and leaves an unpleasant aftertaste in the listeners’ mouth, following an otherwise strong performance.

Turn Me Inside Out is without a doubt the most ambitious record yet for the Hellbound Hepcats, and while this ambition feels forced and unnatural, it certainly allows the band members to further explore themselves as musicians. If anything, it’s a promise that the group has aspirations of blurring the boundaries of rockabilly with continued refinement. The Hellbound Hepcats may just be the group to redefine rockabilly in the modern sense, but their latest record shows they haven’t quite landed it yet.

The post The Daily Reviews appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Cécile McLorin Salvant’s transformative vocals in For One to Love contain the essence of that known-to-many skill acquired in teenage years, of putting out your cigarette, waving away the smoke, and stopping your cough before your parents’ steps reach the door. The 2015 album showcases the way the artist effortlessly transitions from tobacco-induced growls to sweet, innocent vocals. Born in Miami and raised by Haitian and French parents, Salvant seeks to further explore her mixed background (she speaks English, French, and Spanish) in this album of enigmatic jazz experimentation.

In the opening track “Fog,” Salvant strings together a collection of modern earth tones woven in a dreamlike fashion. “Growlin’ Dan” then wakes you up from that trance with its pounding blues beat. Admittedly, the listener is left startled and greatly confused by the album’s rapid departure in genre. Later moving from Sinatra-esque Broadway belts to lilting French ballads, Salvant seems to have exhausted every facet of jazz in one record. Once the album finishes, however, listeners will realize that they were unknowingly part of an overarching storyline the entire time.

That’s the beauty of Salvant’s unrestrained style: emotions pose no boundaries. With sensation so raw, one can’t help but empathize with the story she weaves.

The topic of sexism is addressed in the cover “Wives and Lovers,” a song originally recorded by Jack Jones in 1963. In meshing the melodramatic singing style of the sixties with the musical aesthetic of modern jazz, Salvant is able to reveal the sheer absurdity of lyrics like: “Don’t send him off with your hair still in curlers / You may not see him again.”

For One to Love is best experienced in one sitting. If each individual song is taken for its own merit, the narrative – the album’s very foundation – will be lost, and it’ll appear as if Salvant can’t decide what genre she likes. Taken together as a whole, however, a dynamic story of love, heartbreak, confidence, and desperation is created. It’s raw enough to connect with the listener on an emotional level.

Even the album artwork – which she designed herself – shows a range of emotions by using a print of a woman simultaneously crying, winking, and smiling. One thing is for certain: For One to Love is nothing short of an emotionally intimate narrative, and as listeners chase this story, they breathe in a healthy dose of suspense, mystery, and smooth cigarettes.

The Atom Age – Hot Shame

A minute into Hot Shame, The Atom Age’s August release, it becomes clear that the album has ambitiously and effectively disregarded all tradition – infusing quintessential early punk riffs with treble-soaked organ lines, crushing blast beats, and the group’s signature saxophone lead.

Hot Shame runs extremely short – only about 25 minutes long – but not a second is wasted. Each track crashes wildly into the next, creating a loud, gritty, unrelenting race from start to finish.

Although unmistakably steeped in punk influences, the exact sound of Hot Shame is nearly impossible to categorize – it’s a complex amalgam of varied rock styles spanning from the birth of rock to modern indie. Each song moves to the classic rhythm of sixties and seventies punk, but elements of ska, blues, and psychedelia are in the forefront of each crunchy, surf-rock inspired track. Tracks such as “Wild Worry” even carry strong undertones of Cramps-style gothabilly.

The feel of the album is perfectly summarized by track “Ms. Death Texas,” a screaming concoction of trebly organ riffs, screeching sax, and racing drums. It, like the entirety of the album, absolutely demands to be played as loudly as possible.

The combination of clashing styles may give the album a unique sound, but at times it is also a hindrance.  Some songs betray an unsureness, with FIDLAR-style vocals clashing with rockabilly riffs and seventies-style electric organ. Sometimes these juxtapositions work in the band’s favour, but tracks such as “Do it Now” feel clunky and awkward.

The album’s definite weak point is its repetition and lack of variation. By the end of the album, the songs begin to blend together as a blur of noise and fast-paced drums. Hot Shame is the kind of album that is best listened to as individual songs – too much at once and the party-all-the-time charm that defines it becomes tiresome. When each track is appreciated alone, it better showcases the true strength of its production.

Superficially, Hot Shame may seem like no more than a loud punk record, but upon closer inspection it becomes clear that it is a truly ardent album with far too many moving parts to keep track of. While at times this ambition backfires, the album is still an exciting, overwhelming 25-minute wall of powerful sound guaranteed to please even the pickiest of rock fans – in moderation.

The post The Daily Reviews appeared first on The McGill Daily.